"W-what is going on?"
"Has the sky collapsed?!"
On the long street, the commoners were terrified, scattering like birds and beasts, hurriedly running to take cover.
Yet, in contrast, there were figures moving against the flow.
The gates of the Demon Suppression Headquarters were thrown wide open.
Hundreds of Demon Suppression Guards, clad in black robes with crimson patterns, surged toward the Imperial City under the leadership of a few individuals.
The long blade in Lü Qinghou's hand was already unsheathed.
You Wujiang carried a long sword on his back, and Gu Wanlan pressed her red lips tightly together.
Zhao Zhongliu clutched his chest, his steps unsteady, yet he pushed away the Assistant General Cui who tried to support him. Forcing himself to catch his breath, he grumbled and struggled to stay at the front of the formation, "This old man isn't dead yet! No need for support!"
It was not just the Demon Suppression Division.
The one hundred and eight wards of Chang'an.
The various great noble families and clans, Sects and Gangs, and the Mountain Gazing Realm Martial Venerables who usually kept to themselves, all walked out of their deep courtyards in unison at this moment.
Other regions might be one thing.
But this is Chang'an!
When the nest is overturned, how can there be any intact eggs?
If Chang'an falls, how can the noble families exist?
It took only a short moment.
Outside the Imperial City, on the rooftops, beneath the city walls.
A sea of black, filled with heads.
Tens of thousands of Martial Artists, their Qi and blood surging to the heavens.
Inside the Imperial City.
The Li Clan High Ancestor suddenly opened his eyes, took a single step, and his figure arrived atop the palace wall. He looked up at the sky, his expression grave.
"It has come, after all."
As soon as his voice fell.
Directly ahead, within the crimson pillar of light, a figure slowly walked out.
The newcomer was draped in a red robe, his face gloomy, with red mist surging around him.
It was none other than the Red Toad Immortal Master.
He did not look at the Li Clan High Ancestor, his gaze passing over the palace wall to land on the breach that had been blasted open by a young girl that day.
Although it had been repaired, the traces of new and old were still visible.
"Repaired quite quickly."
The High Ancestor remained expressionless, merely raising his arm slowly.
Hum—
Above the Imperial City, the Dragon Qi instantly converged.
A golden long sword, condensed from Dragon Qi, appeared out of thin air in his palm.
The sword tip pointed directly at the Red Toad.
"Does Five Immortals Mountain wish to go to war with the Great Tang?"
"War?"
The Red Toad Immortal Master sneered and shook his head, "You overestimate yourself too much."
As his voice fell.
Within the other four pillars of light, a figure appeared in each.
Either bewitching in green robes, or a stooped old woman, or dark and fat like a mountain, or wearing yellow imperial robes.
The five Immortal Masters arrived at Chang'an together.
This... is this truly the end of my Great Tang?!
The High Ancestor had lived for hundreds of years, his Heart-Nature had long been as calm as an ancient well, but at this moment, cold sweat seeped from the hand holding the sword.
If one came, relying on this Chang'an Great Formation and the Dragon Qi filling the city, perhaps he could fight to the death and trade for a glimmer of survival.
If two came, he could only gamble with the fate of the nation and perish together.
But now...
The Five Immortals had all arrived.
This was Heaven cutting off the Great Tang, leaving not a shred of a way out.
"What? No words?"
The Red Toad Immortal Master, with red clouds surging, smiled mockingly, "Your Chang'an... seems to be about to cease to exist."
...
In the heartland of the Great Tang, the official road wound along.
The sun was setting in the west, casting a withered yellow light over the ground.
A slightly dilapidated carriage wobbled slowly forward along the official road.
Pulling the carriage was an old horse, its coat mottled and its body gaunt.
There were even a few coin-sized sores on the horse's back, looking somewhat disgusting.
The old horse lowered its head, snorting, and shuffled forward slowly.
Even more bizarrely.
The carriage shafts were empty; there wasn't even a driver.
Only the old horse knew the way, needing neither whip nor command.
It stepped along on its own; it looked slow, but in reality, with every step it took, the surrounding scenery retreated like streaks of light.
Inside the carriage.
A thin, dry hand lifted the curtain and glanced outside.
"Master, how much longer until we reach Chang'an?"
The speaker was a Child.
He was finely sculpted like jade, wearing two topknots, holding a half-eaten pear in his hands, his words slurred.
Deep inside the carriage, an old Daoist reclined.
His Daoist robes were tattered, stained with a few oil spots, his hair held up by a casual wooden hairpin, his eyes bleary with sleep.
Hearing his disciple's question, the old Daoist yawned and turned over, "What's the rush? In this mortal realm, only these pears are decent; just keep eating."
The Child pursed his lips, finished the rest of the pear in a few bites, and tossed the core out of the window.
"Master."
"Hmm?"
"Our lineage is considered to have status within the Xuanzhen Grotto-Heaven, so why does your Daoist title sound so unpleasant?"
The old Daoist opened one eye, "You think Thirteen Wu sounds bad?"
The Child said aggrievedly, "It is bad... The Immortal Master Ziyang next door has such an impressive title, and at worst, Senior Martial Uncle Qingxu's is also good, but Master, you... you are called Immortal Master Thirteen Wu."
"It sounds just like those nameless vagrants in the mortal world."
The old Daoist wasn't annoyed, just smacked his lips.
"You little monkey, what do you know."
"My name has great significance."
The Child became interested and leaned closer.
"What significance?"
The old Daoist extended a hand, counting slowly on his fingers.
"No name, no surname."
"No father, no mother."
"No elder brother, no younger brother."
"No elder sister, no younger sister."
"No son, no daughter."
"No wife, no friend."
The old Daoist finished counting in one breath and shook his palm.
"These are the twelve 'No's."
The Child blinked, looking confused, but followed along and counted once.
Then his brows furrowed.
"Master, your counting isn't good either."
"That's only twelve 'No's, what about the thirteenth one?"
The old Daoist paused at these words.
He slowly sat up straight, a sharp gleam suddenly flashing through his originally cloudy old eyes, and he grinned, "This thirteenth 'No'..."
"Is Invincible."
"..."
The Child was stunned.
After a long while, he came back to his senses.
"Are you full of it?"
The old Daoist: "?"
Slap—!
"Ouch!"
Under the heavy slap, the Child cried out in pain, clutched his head with both hands, and curled into a ball.
With teary eyes: "Master... This disciple was wrong! I won't dare to speak nonsense again!"
The old Daoist glared, his beard bristling.
"No respect for your elders."
"My abilities are heaven-reaching and earth-shattering, why would I need to boast?"
"It's just that you haven't seen the world. If it were back in the day..."
Halfway through speaking.
The old Daoist seemed to feel it was beneath his dignity to get angry with a brat, so he huffed twice and stopped speaking.
The Child rubbed his head, looking aggrieved.
He didn't dare talk back.
He could only mutter quietly.
The carriage wobbled.
Silence reigned for a long while.
The Child was, after all, a Child at heart and could not endure the loneliness.
Or perhaps the curiosity in his heart outweighed the pain on his head.
He carefully leaned over.
"Master."
"Hmm?"
The old Daoist closed his eyes to rest, letting out a hum from his nose.
The Child blinked his big eyes, looking at the increasingly desolate scenery outside the window.
"You still haven't said, why... must we go to that Chang'an?"
At this point.
He paused and asked tentatively, "This disciple heard Senior Martial Uncle Qingxu mention it once..."
"Saying that this region... is your homeland, Master?"
Upon hearing this.
The old Daoist slowly opened his eyes.
For a long time.
He finally let out a soft sigh, "Homeland, huh..."
Afterwards.
He shook his head, then nodded.
"That is indeed true."
"However..."
"That was the previous dynasty... no, the dynasty before the previous one."
"Back then, this region wasn't called Great Tang, and the people back then weren't the same bunch of people as now."
The Child was half-understanding: "Then doesn't that mean it isn't?"
The old Daoist smiled, "Silly boy."
"Although the name has changed, and the rivers and mountains have changed hands."
"But these mountains are still those mountains, and the water is still that water."
The old Daoist turned his head to look into the distance, the setting sun reflected in his eyes.
"Even if the seas change into mulberry fields."
"This place, is also for this Master, the Chang'an in my heart."